


Under the Sakura Tree

by ChillieBean



Series: Be Here Now [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Jesse McCree & Genji Shimada Are Best Friends, M/M, Mentions of alcohol, Mild Language, Mutual Pining, Shimada bros are bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2019-09-05 16:31:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16814332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: A mission that goes right, a mission that goes wrong. Harboured feelings bloom like Sakura, revealing a part of Hanzo he thought long gone.





	1. The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Magisey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magisey/gifts).



> Hello and welcome to Under the Sakura Tree!
> 
> Firstly, this is a birthday present to the wonderful Magisey, my friend. Sey, I know these last few months have been tough, and I really do wish I could do more. Such is the distance between us, all I can do is message you, check in, and send lots of love. Happy birthday, lovely <3
> 
> This fic is part two to Magisey's birthday present last year. If you haven't read [The Surprise](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12919503), or haven't read it in a while, I'd recommend reading it before jumping into this one, because even though there is a year between both fics being posted, this one starts off almost immediately from The Surprise. 
> 
> After I linked The Surprise to Magisey, I penned out the universe that fic is set in. I wanted to have this posted months ago, and make this my next work after Suit Up!, but it didn't pan out that way. I actually stalled on this, but I've separated what I've got so far, and it's looking like it'll be three chapters. When chapter two lands, I cannot tell you. This is the first time I'm posting something this short without it being finished, just to get over that apprehension, but I will post it! (And for those playing at home, this was the series I mentioned in Forever and a Day that I said I'd never get round to finishing. Never say never!)
> 
> I don't anticipate the rating going up, but I haven't written the "mission gone wrong" part yet. At worst, it'll bump up to M for violence, but I'll make a note of that if that happens.
> 
> Anywho, Sey, I hope you enjoy this fic, and everyone else, I hope you enjoy it, too!

Hanzo has a spring in his step as he bounces around the kitchen getting breakfast ready.

He woke early, much earlier than he normally would, and just could not get back to sleep. After staring at his ceiling for the better part of an hour, _still_ feeling that residual brush of Jesse’s beard against his cheek and just too hopelessly excited over it, he decided to head to the shooting range and get in some target practice to try and burn off that excess energy. Two hours later, he felt relatively normal again and headed back to his quarters to shower and shave before preparing himself breakfast.

Winston was the only other early riser in the mess hall, sitting in the back corner of the room and making his way through a hand of bananas, a stack of toast spread with peanut butter and a large mug of coffee in front of him. He acknowledged Hanzo's presence with a simple “Good morning” before burying himself back in his tablet, no doubt preparing for the upcoming mission.

With time to spare and knowing Genji will be present for this briefing too, Hanzo takes the time to make a double serving of rice, grill two portions of salmon and prepare four fried eggs. Absolutely famished from his training, he eats the bowl in a manner of minutes, finishing just as Genji and Angela enter the kitchen, and Genji looks longingly into Hanzo's empty bowl.

“On the counter,” Hanzo says with a smirk.

Genji glances over his shoulder and looks back so fast, Hanzo is amazed that he did not get whiplash. Grinning, Genji does what he does when he shows affection, grabbing Hanzo in a headlock and kissing the top of his head.

Hanzo chuckles, in no way annoyed by the contact. In fact, he smiles through it; it is the first time in a decade since Genji has done this. But when Genji pulls away slowly, uncertainty in his eyes, Hanzo finds himself nodding, an acknowledgement that it is okay, that this level of contact is fine given their recent breakthrough. He smiles when Genji smiles, noting the tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

When the rest of the team starting filing in, Hanzo stands, giving Genji one final nod, a gentle squeeze of his shoulder before busying himself in the kitchen. It takes more effort than required to swallow down the urge to tear up, the last thing he needs is the rest of the team seeing him in a somewhat vulnerable state _again_.

As they prepare their breakfasts, Hanzo spends that time preparing tea and coffee for them. Even though he confirms their choices, he knows Ana has her tea black with the bag left in, Lena has hers steeped for five minutes and with a dash of milk, Angela, Reinhardt and Torbjörn all have their coffee black with no sugar, Jesse has his coffee with cream and three sugars, Genji has jasmine tea and Hanzo himself has chai.

He also pulls a can of energy drink from the fridge and places it on the bench for Hana.

After a string of ‘thanks’ and friendly comments—Reinhardt saying he will resist the urge to pick him up and hug him, Lena kissing him on the cheek, and even a mumbled thanks _and_ good morning from Hana—the only drink left on the bench is Jesse’s.

Hanzo prepares his tea while Jesse cooks, and he cannot help but take the moment to enjoy working by his side, listening to the sound of food sizzling in the frying pan as Jesse hums a song and sways subtly to the tune. Hanzo gets lost in it, imagining a scenario where they work alongside each other every day, lazy mornings where they make breakfast and tea and coffee, eat together and enjoy each other’s company.

And he cannot help but feel that giddiness from earlier when the thought of doing this _after_ spending the night with him pops into his mind.

“A man can get used to this,” Jesse drawls, nudging Hanzo in the shoulder with his as he picks up his coffee.

Hanzo is unable to _think_ about containing the smile that blooms on his lips, much less stop himself from showing it. “It is nothing,” he responds, quickly picking up his own mug and taking a sip, intent on keeping it hidden at all costs.

“Y’went to the effort to make everyone their morning cup, it ain’t nothing.”

“I had the time,” Hanzo says, shrugging. He meets Jesse’s eyes, and Jesse stares back at him, seemingly unconvinced if the single raised eyebrow is anything to go by.

“Well, thank you in any case,” Jesse says after a moment, raising his mug in a toast before looking at his plate of bacon, eggs, sausage, fried tomato and toast. Greasy as it is, it smells delicious, and Hanzo would actually not mind sharing that breakfast with him one day. “Should, uh, get to eating. Not gonna have much time to think, let alone eat, after the briefing.”

Hanzo bows his head, watching as Jesse takes a seat next to Lena.

“Someone is in a good mood.”

Hanzo looks at Genji beside him, leaning against the bench with his mug in one hand, his empty bowl in the other. “I merely made everyone their morning beverages. Since I woke early, I thought it was owed, considering I have had my tea made for me in the past.”

“One,” Genji starts, crossing one ankle over the other, “do not think you owe anyone anything. They are your friends, not clan members who are keeping score of debts owed and paid. Two, you made _me_ breakfast too,” he holds out the now empty bowl, “and you _never_ do that.”

“The only time you are up this early is for a mission.”

“ _Three_ ,” Genji continues, “I am sure it has something to do with last night.”

Hanzo stares at Genji, dread pooling in his stomach. Genji left the party last, but still before he and Jesse left. Surely he did not see the kiss. “What _about_ last night?” he asks, trying to act cool.

“You and Jesse seemed to be getting cosy with your coffees and cake in your corner of the room.”

“We were merely discussing our favourite TV shows.”

“Is that what you are calling it?” Genji goads, smirking. “Did _anything else_ happen?”

“Nothing else happened,” Hanzo replies flatly, taking a sip of chai, letting the spice linger on his tongue before swallowing.

“Jesse seems well rested, and you are happy for once. I’m not convinced that _something_ did not happen.”

Hanzo glares at Genji through narrowed eyes. Genji’s ability to push and push until Hanzo gives way is something that always bothered him in their youth, and right now, he knows that if he keeps denying it, Genji will just question Jesse and the truth will come out. Inhaling and exhaling slowly, Hanzo brings his voice down, saying, “I did not have… relations with him, if that is what you are implying.”

“‘Relations’?” Genji snorts. “You can say ‘I did not sleep with him’, you know.”

“I—we did not _do_ anything!” Hanzo states, indignant. He glances at Jesse, and a part of him questions his crush on a man who has zero table manners, as he talks with his mouth full and refuses to take off his hat off at the table. But he is probably the kindest person Hanzo has come across, he gave him more than a passing greeting in the early days when he joined. And he is roguishly handsome, much smarter than he lets on, is funny, makes Hanzo laugh more than he has any right to laugh and—is just Jesse.

“I don’t believe you.”

Hanzo rolls his eyes, looking at Genji. “Fine,” he concedes. He turns to his side, brings his voice down low to whisper in Genji’s ear, “There was a kiss.”

Genji squeals, even though it does sound more like a mechanically modulated hum. “How was it? Did he go all in? Was there tongue? I bet he—”

“It was a kiss on the cheek!” Hanzo growls. Though the thought of actually kissing Jesse has been on his mind for a long while, and it would be a lie to say Hanzo did not think _a lot_ about kissing Jesse with passion last night.

“Oh. That is a letdown.”

“It was…” Hanzo sighs wistfully, opting to switch to Japanese to properly convey the description because there is no way he could let _anyone_ hear him utter the following words. “ _The softest kiss, something that was so impossibly gentle and warm and… perfect._ ”

“Wow, Hanzo,” Genji replies, deadpan, “those are words I thought I would never hear you say about someone. _Especially_ Jesse, who is _none_ of those things.”

“And if you tell anyone I will not hesitate to kill you all over again,” he says, deadly serious.

“Harsh,” Genji says, taking a sip of his tea.

Hanzo cannot help but smile. He is happy that both he and Genji are in a place where he can fully utilise his dark sense of humour again.

“You should pursue it,” Genji continues. “I know you have a crush. I think the entire base knows you have a crush for all the staring you do.”

“I want to,” Hanzo breathes, looking at Jesse again. He has finished eating now, he is holding the mug in both hands and is pressed to his chin. It pushes his bottom lip up that makes it look like he is pouting and it is adorable. Hanzo huffs a laugh, that is another word he does not dare say in front of anyone. “Do you think he would be interested?”

“ _He_ kissed _you_ , didn’t he? He is interested.” Genji pauses to take a sip of tea, prompting Hanzo to take another sip of his chai, watching Jesse seemingly telling Lena something in confidence, if the way he is leaned over the table with his mouth concealed by his mug is anything to go by. “And he has been staring at you a lot, especially when you are in the gym.”

Hanzo smirks, he is acutely aware of Jesse’s lingering eyes whenever he works out. Or more notably when he does his stretches.

“Don’t know why, though,” Genji says, utterly nonchalant. “His taste in men is shit.”

Scoffing, Hanzo presses his palm to the side of Genji’s head and pushes him away, in the most affectionate way a brother can. “Are you jealous?”

“Fuck no,” Genji says, standing up straight and checking over himself for any spilt tea; it seems he is dry. “He is messy and unrestrained and—" Genji takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment and expels it in one large, loud gust. "I have no idea how you find that attractive.”

“He was there,” Hanzo says, voice barely a whisper. He clears his throat, he made a promise to himself that he would not get emotional when discussing his feelings about Jesse. Not that he has discussed them openly before. “You saw him, he was the only one who put in the effort to make sure we were both level-headed, that we did not devolve into physical fights when things got bad. He talked you down, he talked me down.” Hanzo looks at Jesse again. “And then he would make sure that I was okay, during the bad times when you had Master Zenyatta and I had no one, he made sure I was not alone.”

“I bet that went down well.”

Hanzo huffs a laugh. “He learned eventually that if he showed up at my door with alcohol, I would let him in.”

“You two are as bad as each other.”

“Before that, he would sit outside my door and try to have a conversation with me, and when I refused to answer, he talked to himself. If I wanted to leave, he followed. I hated it at first, especially when all I wanted was silence, but over time, I grew to enjoy his company." Hanzo smiles. "I learned to open up to him.”

Genji places a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder, and Hanzo looks over to see his eyes have welled with tears. “ _You never told me that before_ ,” he whispers in Japanese.

Hanzo looks away, stares at his feet like they are the most interesting thing in the world right now in an attempt to keep himself from getting emotional. “ _I_ _never found an opportunity_.”

“ _Well I am happy that you shared it with me_.” Genji takes back his hand, and they share a moment of silence, finishing the last of their tea. “And,” he says eventually, folding his arms across his chest, “I give you my approval to date the cowman.”

Hanzo snorts. “I was not looking for your approval.”

“You have it anyway. He is my best friend, after all. And as your brother, I feel like I should have some say with regards to the people you date.” Genji looks at Jesse, prompting Hanzo to do the same. “Even if he is a walking anachronism.”

Rolling his eyes, Hanzo looks from Jesse to Genji. “Thank you,” he replies flatly. He looks over to Jesse as he stands up, gives a little wave as he approaches with his dishes.

“Hey, Han, Genj.” Jesse looks at Genji, a small smile teasing his lips. “Mind if I chat with you for a minute?”

Hanzo looks from Jesse to Genji, then back to Jesse again. “Excuse me,” he says with the bow of his head. He first heads to the dishwasher, placing his empty mug in there before walking to the tables, taking a seat opposite Lena.

“Hey Hanzo, thanks again for the tea!” she says, practically vibrating with excitement. Usually full of energy, this morning she appears more so than normal. “So! Solo mission with Jesse, hey?”

“A simple peacekeeping mission with Winston.” Hanzo smirks, bringing his voice down. “So technically not alone.”

“But still… Winston'll be too into his work to pay the two of you any mind.”

Hanzo chuckles. “We will not have time to do anything extracurricular.”

“Overnight stay in Germany, _plenty_ of time for extracurricular activities,” she replies with a wink. 

“To which _I_ am referring to dinner, time to get to know him.”

“Of course! You only just had the kiss on the cheek, it’s a big leap to go from there to between the sheets.”

“You know about the kiss,” Hanzo mumbles as he leans back in his seat, looking at Jesse and Genji. Jesse is facing the sink, he appears to be washing the pan he used to cook his breakfast and Genji is standing on his side beside him. Genji is nodding furiously, obviously in agreement with whatever Jesse is saying. Genji then says something, too fast for Hanzo to read and too quiet for him to hear, but whatever it is, it makes Jesse bark a laugh, glance over his shoulder only to turn back fast when his eyes meet Hanzo’s.

“Jess tells me everything, love!” She then stands, leans over the table, resting on her forearms. “Believe me, he does like you. Any doubts you’ve got about dating him, throw ‘em out the window.” She winks again, picking up her bowl and mug, making her way to the dishwasher, where she seamlessly inserts herself into Jesse and Genji’s conversation.

“Two minutes people,” Winston’s voice booms over everyone else’s.

Hanzo nods, standing up and taking a seat opposite Winston. There is a renewed vigour in everyone’s steps now as they finish eating and sit at the table, Winston himself is still buried in his work, finishing one banana before instantly peeling another.

Lena, Genji and Jesse are of course the last to approach the table, Genji and Jesse sit at the foot as Lena places her hands on Winston’s shoulders.

“Whenever you’re ready, big guy,” she says, before slipping into the seat next to him.

Winston nods, pushes his glasses up and looks at everyone. “Thank you all for meeting this early, I understand this is much earlier than some would even wake.” He gives a glance to Genji and Jesse, both of whom give each other a fistbump in response, and Hana groans from beside Hanzo, head cradled in her hand. “Normally we’re not pressed this thin that we have to run two missions simultaneously, and I’m not going to go into specifics again, but I want to make sure we are all on the same page. The first mission involves myself, Hanzo and Jesse. The UN Security Council met over the last two days, and the only two governments interested in meeting with us were the Japanese and Mexican governments. Meeting on neutral ground outside of the UN’s knowledge, we will be conducting talks with them today and tomorrow.”

Hanzo looks at Jesse and nods. They were asked by Winston to be representatives of Overwatch, real faces and the first steps to try and have the Petras Act revoked. He is not surprised the Japanese government is backing them, Overwatch provided assistance and aid during the Omnic crisis, as well as successful peacekeeping efforts in the Korean peninsula in the years after. It made running the clan difficult, with Overwatch’s eyes on Japan more often than not.

And from the information Hanzo has read preparing for this mission, it is a similar story with the Mexican government.

“Genji, Angela, Hana and Torbjörn will be in Osaka,” Winston continues, “investigating claims of suspicious activity around the retired omnium. We have it on good authority that the omnium is, and has been for the last thirty years, shut down, but we have to investigate these claims regardless, since the UN has decided that doing nothing is the best option,” Winston says, huffing. He takes a moment to look around the table before continuing, “Assuming there is nothing remarkable, you should only be gone for a week.”

“Talking with local law enforcement and staking out the omnium in an abandoned area of town,” Genji says, almost begrudgingly. “It will be the longest week of my life.”

“I would have sent in Hanzo too, but I believe his skills to be better utilised for the peacekeeping mission.”

“It is fine, Winston,” Genji says, waving his hand. “Being trapped in a small room with Hanzo for a week would probably make the situation much worse.”

Hanzo glares at Genji, resisting the urge to stoop to his level and respond with a crude gesture. “Your people skills are average at best,” he says instead with playful condescension, “you would not be able to handle the diplomatic mission.”

“People suck,” Genji replies quickly, shrugging. “And sitting in a room with dignitaries _is_ probably worse than sitting in a room with nothing to do for a week.”

“Getting back on topic,” Winston says as a finality, and Hanzo looks at him and bows his head apologetically. “Provided nothing goes wrong, both missions should be unremarkable. I want eight-hour check-ins with the Osaka team, and Ana and Reinhardt will be monitoring the situation here for the first couple of days while I will be out of contact, as will Lena outside her piloting us around.”

“The Orca is stocked and fueled, and ready to go when you are,” Lena replies, saluting.

“Okay team,” Winston says as he stands. “You have thirty minutes before we leave. Dismissed.”

There is a chorus of chairs scraping on the floors, and the room is evacuated in less than ten seconds. Hanzo heads straight to his room, goes through his packed belongings for the final time; underwear, toiletries, a pair of casual clothes, sweatpants and an old t-shirt to sleep in when they retire to the hotel for the evening.

As the first meeting will happen before they will be given access to their hotel room, and Hanzo wishes to avoid changing in the cramped restrooms on the Orca, he changes into his suit now. A simple black pinstripe suit, white shirt and golden _seigaiha_ tie which matches his hair scarf, along with black polished shoes.

Before he slides on his jacket, he affixes two sheathed daggers to himself, one wrapped around his calf, the other attached to his belt. It is unlikely that he will need them, but there is no way he will be going into a foreign room without something he can use to protect himself. 

Sliding on his jacket and looking at his reflection in the mirror, Hanzo straightens his tie before pulling on the cuffs of his shirt. He cannot help but smile; a part of him is excited at seeing Jesse dressed in a suit. It is something he has not seen yet, not in person, but he has seen pictures, and while Jesse may be a ‘walking anachronism’, as Genji had so eloquently put it, he looks incredibly sharp in one.

With a final nod to his reflection, he checks Storm Bow. He will not need her for the mission, but there is no way he will let her out of his sight. He has a briefcase he can dismantle her into with enough room for twenty arrows _if_ anything were to happen. Humming approvingly, he tracks from the top of the upper limb all the way to the bottom of the lower limb before taking her apart and packing her into the briefcase. He slides in the arrows, leaves the rest in the quiver which he packs into his duffel bag.

Giving himself one last glance in the mirror, Hanzo hefts the duffel bag on one shoulder, briefcase in his other hand and leaves his room, headed to the shuttle bay.

“Hey, Hanzo, wait up.”

Turning, Hanzo sees Jesse jogging up to him. He stops, his heart all but skips a beat, seeing Jesse dressed in a solid charcoal suit with an accompanying burgundy tie, and the pictures Hanzo had seen do not do him justice. He looks good. _Very_ good. But Hanzo cannot help but smile, looking at his hat sitting atop his head, and it does seem he will not go anywhere without it, then to the duffel bag in his hand as he hefts it, walking in step with him.

“All packed?” Hanzo asks.

“Yup. I travel light.” He looks at Hanzo’s briefcase, smirking. “An advantage when my weapon’s a revolver.”

Hanzo hums as they round the corner. “I assume you will be carrying it on your person?”

“Certainly will.” Jesse taps the left side of his chest, winking. “You?”

Hanzo kicks out his right leg, then taps at the base of his spine. “Daggers.”

“Ooh, nice,” Jesse replies. “How ‘bout your bow?”

“Here,” Hanzo says, lifting the briefcase. “Did you expect me to not have it close?”

“Absolutely not. You, without your bow? It’s like me without Peacekeeper. Can’t have one without the other. But ah…” Jesse smirks, looking at the briefcase. “She’s dismantled, right?”

“I can reassemble her in under ten seconds, so there will be no issue if we do encounter trouble.”

“Don’t know,” Jesse says, amusement thick on his voice. “Ten seconds is a long time to be out of the fight to assemble your bow. I could be up to my fifth kill by then.”

Hanzo cannot help but smirk as he approaches the hangar, pressing his hand to the display to gain access. The doors open with a hiss, and the murmured voices of the team carry out. “You underestimate my abilities. _If_ for whatever reason I find myself in a situation where I cannot assemble my bow, I have my daggers. Absent them, _anything_ in my hands can be considered a weapon.”

Jesse stops, and Hanzo looks over his shoulder and winks before facing forward and approaching the Orca, ensuring he squares his shoulders as he claims this small, personal victory.

He boards the shuttle, placing his gear in a storage compartment before disembarking again and watching as Torbjörn loads Hana’s MEKA onto the cargo hold of the shuttle. Jesse passes him, head down and hat sitting lower on his head, an attempt to intentionally obscure his face with the brim, perhaps, as he boards. Hanzo looks him up and down before turning his attention back to Hana, who is looking at the MEKA in complete adoration, before throwing Torbjörn an incredulous look when it lands on the shuttle with a bit more force than graceful, the cargo hold creaks under the weight.

“It’s fine,” Torbjörn says without looking at her, brushing it off with the wave of his hand. “Just a little paint damage at worst. No need for that look.”

“If there is one single scratch on it, old man, then I will make you personally paint it from head to toe!”

Torbjörn only laughs, and Hana rolls here eyes and boards the Orca. She nearly bumps into Jesse as he steps off, he winks at Hanzo as he stands beside him. Torbjörn looks from Jesse to Hanzo, grinning from ear to ear as the hangar doors are closed. “To be young, eh?”

Hanzo only smiles; he remembers a time where he behaved just like that. He was nineteen at the time, too, and thought himself invincible, untouchable and above everyone else. Suffice it to say—and he has a silent chuckle to himself now about it—his father put him back in line. There are only so many lectures and essays he endured before he dropped the attitude—in front of his father, at the very least. 

“She will settle,” Hanzo replies eventually. He eyes Hana as she sits on the loveseat, she is settling in well for a new recruit who joined Overwatch two month ago. It was by her request, too, after discovering that the recall had been initiated and she was looking for something new to do in her already impressive life. She got along instantly with Genji and Lena, and while Jesse trained her up to Overwatch’s standards alongside Hanzo, Jesse refused to take her attitude, ignoring her playful taunting at his ‘cowboy getup’, as she affectionately referred to it, and instead building a mutual respect on that foundation. He smiles as he looks back at Torbjörn. “I was much like that at her age.”

“That’s not a surprise!” Torbjörn says from beside him. “Your brother was like that when he was up and about.”

Hanzo’s smile widens, glancing at Genji as he walks in with Lena and Angela. “I am glad to hear he remained himself despite…” he swallows down the sudden lump in his throat, “...everything.”

Torbjörn laughs, following Hanzo’s gaze. “It was like having a teenager on base again. I can only imagine what he was like as an _actual_ teenager.”

“Fucking delightful,” Genji interjects before Hanzo can get a word in.

“ _If_ you were like you were once you joined Blackwatch,” Angela says, “then _no_ , delightful is about as far away as you can get.”

Genji gasps dramatically, and Angela smirks.

“It is true,” Hanzo says, Genji gasps again and Hanzo turns his attention to Torbjörn. “He would break curfew, party well into the night and sneak back in the morning. More than once he did a full day’s training while hungover on little-to-no sleep—”

"And no one was the wiser," Genji finishes, smirking.

" _Everybody_ knew," Hanzo retorts. "Your eyes were bloodshot, you were making foolish mistakes, your movements were sluggish—"

"Then why did no one say anything?"

"Can you imagine if they did? The instructors, telling Father, the head of the clan, that his son is failing because he is out partying. They did not have a deathwish."

Genji slumps. "All these years I thought I had gotten away with it."

"And what if they stopped you? You would have made their lives a misery, too."

"Oh, you know it," Genji says, grinning. "Would have—"

"Five minutes to get ready and up in the air," Winston's booming voice announces over everyone's.

Hanzo nods, and the four of them look at each other before boarding the shuttle. He takes a seat between Genji and Jesse, while Torbjörn, Angela and Hana sit opposite them. Winston joins Lena in the cockpit, and after a moment the Orca rumbles to life. Pulling his safety harness over his head and securing it in place, Hanzo takes a moment to breathe in, then out, readying himself for the upcoming mission.

“Welcome aboard the Orca!” Lena's voice crackles over the loudspeaker as the hangar doors above the shuttle open. “The first leg of our journey, Gibraltar to Munich, will take approximately two-and-a-half hours, while the second leg from Munich to Osaka will take nine-and-a-half. I apologise to those who will be disembarking on our second leg, and please all take a moment to feel sorry for poor old me who has to do the return back to Gibraltar after that.”

There is a pause, and Hanzo can hear Winston’s voice carry down the stairs, but cannot make out the words.

“The weather in Munich is what you’d expect for a typical summer’s day,” Lena continues, “warm with a top of twenty-five degrees Celsius. Osaka, however, is a little warmer, sitting at a balmy thirty-four degrees Celsius. Humidity is sitting at ninety-six percent too, so enjoy that, guys.”

Hanzo hears Angela groan from across the room, above the warm-up rumble of the shuttle. He sympathises with her misery; humid summer nights were always his least favourite part of home.

"So sit back, relax and prepare for departure."

Hanzo sighs, resting his head against the headrest. A louder rumble fills the space as the Orca lifts off the ground, and the shuttle rattles as it reaches altitude. When they are in the sky, well above the clouds, the safety harness disengages, and Hanzo lifts it over his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"If anyone needs me," Hana announces to no one in particular as she stands, rubbing her eyes with one hand while stretching the other above her head, "I'm gonna be sleeping. 'Night, everyone."

Hanzo purses his lips as he watches her approach the rear of the shuttle, disappearing around the corner to lay in crew quarters. To be young, indeed.

"She was streaming all night," Genji says from beside him.

"Why am I not surprised?"

"She knew she had twelve hours to kill on the Orca, so she decided to pull the all-nighter and sleep on the ride over. Smart, really.”

Hanzo hums, looking at Genji. "She is very much like you when you were her age. No regard for those around her."

"She's nineteen, go easy on her."

Hanzo smirks; he has cultivated a good bond with Hana, built on respect mostly from training alongside her. But in any case, he still utters the words, "I will not have her disrespect me."

“Ugh,” Genji groans, standing up. “You’re such a grump!”

"Okay," Jesse breathes from Hanzo's other side. It stops Hanzo before he can retaliate, and he wonders if it was intentional or not. "Han, we should probably compare notes, see how we're going to handle the next couple days."

Hanzo nods, and Genji stretches his arms above his head and walks up to the loveseat, sitting down. Angela joins him, and Torbjörn seems to have the same idea as Hana as he folds his arms over his chest and closes his eyes, an attempt to sleep. Huffing a little laugh, Hanzo turns his attention to Jesse, unlocking his phone and reading his notes aloud.

And two hours literally fly by. By the time they are done comparing notes and checking everything over with Winston, they are preparing to land in Munich.

"The Louis Hotel has been kind enough to allow us to use their helipad, but we have to drop you off and run," Lena says. "You guys take care out there, yeah."

"We will," Winston sighs, adjusting his glasses. He just got into his suit, using the cockpit for the space it offers, and he tugs at the collar.

"You gotta stop doing that, big guy," Lena murmurs, batting his hand away and straightening his tie.

"Why are these things so restrictive? I hate wearing them."

"One of the perks of bein' the head honcho," Jesse says, grinning. "Can't hide in your lab anymore."

"Unfortunately, no," Winston sighs again. "I miss being stuck in my lab, the only thing I have to worry about is when I plan on sleeping." Another sigh. "But I am Strike-Commander now, and there is no point complaining about it." He stands up straight, opting to walk on his hind legs as he approaches the hangar door.

"Good luck, hey," Lena says, patting him on the back. She looks at Hanzo, then Jesse. "See you tomorrow." She then blinks up the stairs and into the cockpit.

The transition between Athena piloting and Lena taking over is obvious when the shuttle dips slightly. No one loses their balance, fortunately, and with their luggage in hand, the second the Orca lands on the helipad, the doors open and they disembark. They take shelter in the stairwell, descending the stairs before the Orca takes off. The last thing they need is for the dust to embed in their suits.

Following Winston, they take the stairs to the top floor, ride the elevator to the ground floor and check in. The clerk takes their bags and Jesse hands them his hat too. As he smooths over his hair, they are told their luggage will be waiting in their room for them when they finish.

From reception, they head to the briefing room on the first floor. They spend another thirty minutes going over the presentation, and with a knock at the door, the Japanese dignitary enters.

Hanzo takes the lead now, bowing deeply, and Jesse and Winston follow his lead. Once standing upright, he extends his hand. "Shimada Hanzo," he greets.

"Fukuda Jun," the dignitary introduces himself, before introducing the other two members of his team.

“Agent Jesse McCree,” Hanzo says.

Jesse extends his hand. “Pleasure.”

“Strike Commander Winston.”

“It is an honour to meet you,” Winston says, extending his hand. “And I would like to thank you for meeting with us.”

“We have a long history of working with Overwatch,” Fukuda-san says, “and it is something we wish to continue.”

“Very well,” Winston says, gesturing to the table with the extension of his hand.

As Hanzo sits, he unbuttons his jacket and glances at Jesse, and Jesse smiles back. He takes a deep breath, activates the holodisplay and starts the presentation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's a Chillie fic without a suit kink?
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	2. Overthinking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't intend to have a large gap between chapters (ideally this fic would be well and truly finished by now) but January and February are pretty much write-offs. 
> 
> I ah... toe the line with this T rating. #sorrynotsorry
> 
> Enjoy in any case.

"That was harder than I thought it would be," Jesse sighs, falling to the bed. He loosens his tie and unbuttons the top button of his shirt, tugging on his collar "Goin’ to need a good drink after that."

"It was not that bad," Hanzo replies, completely loosening his tie and wrapping it around his hand idly. "I expect tomorrow will be smoother for you when we meet with the Mexican dignitary."

"Probably not," Jesse murmurs, and Hanzo meets his gaze. "I'm just not cut out for these kinds of missions, y'know? Gimme somethin' to shoot at, no problems. But sittin' in a room for four hours, well past my lunchtime with only water and coffee and a single cookie, while pretendin' to be interested in something I have to admit I don't really care about?” He sighs heavily, dropping his head. “Torture would be easier."

Hanzo huffs a laugh. "You are being dramatic."

"Don't mind gettin' my hands dirty, Han,” Jesse says, winking, and Hanzo has to look away as he feels the heat creeping up to his cheeks. “You know this."

Hanzo smiles nervously, sitting on his own bed. Now that he is in his room— _their_ room, it's shared with Jesse for the duration of this mission—and he has the opportunity to talk to him about last night, his anxiety gets the better of him. As much as he wants to, he cannot get any words to leave his mouth.

Or perhaps it is the fact that he has spent the last four hours staving off boredom, and he has entered a state where he cannot think of anything other than wanting to get close to Jesse, to breathe in his smell, lean in and kiss him.

Ultimately, he knows that this is not the time nor place for such frivolities. Despite the fact that the first meeting is over, they are still on duty and Winston is in the next room over.

 _That_ must be why Jesse has not said anything about the kiss yet.

Hanzo's stomach growls angrily, snapping him into the present. He glances at Jesse and is thankful that he did not hear it, or if he did he is not saying anything as he stares out the window.

Having something to eat _and_ drink in a relaxed setting is what he needs. It will also give him the time to put his thoughts in some sort of cohesive order other than _rush over and kiss him._

When Jesse pulls the tie from his collar and folds it up neatly, Hanzo realises he should say something, to break this awkward stretch of silence.

"Since we are talking in confidence,” Hanzo starts, waiting until Jesse meets his gaze. “I can tell you that I hated that, too."

Jesse's eyes widen. "Really, now?"

"I barely did any talking, and it was all communicated in English.” Hanzo shrugs sheepishly. “I was not required."

"I bet I won't be required tomorrow," Jesse murmurs. Then he frowns. "And you said that it'd be better for me.” He places a hand on his chest and gasps dramatically, and Hanzo has to fight his smile. “I thought you were my friend."

_Friend._

Hanzo quickly pushes down the voice in his head telling him that Jesse views the kiss as a mistake, that he sees Hanzo only as a friend.

Jesse is _clearly_ joking—he is grinning from ear to ear.

Not leaving him hanging any longer, Hanzo raises an eyebrow. “I am your friend,” he states, matter-of-fact.

“Lies and deceit,” Jesse responds, and after a moment he winks.

Hanzo shrugs, as nonchalant as he can. If Jesse were not interested in him, he would not be winking. Jesse has been winking more and more frequently, and each one leaves him giddy, making him fall further and further in love with him.

Today—right _now_ —is no exception. 

Turning his back on Jesse before he catches onto his awkwardness, Hanzo places his tie on the nightstand. He takes off his jacket and hangs it back in the closet.

He pauses. It would be so easy to say something, to confess his love for Jesse right here, right this very second. But then what? Do they kiss? More? With Winston literally on the other side of the wall?

No. Hanzo needs to get out of this room, relax, enter a relaxing atmosphere with Jesse, and _then_ he can think about making a move.

Looking at their luggage beside the door, Hanzo picks up Jesse’s hat, waving it to get Jesse's attention. He tosses it to him before picking up his duffel bag. Jesse places his hat on his head and opens his hands, catching the bag as Hanzo throws it over.

“Get changed,” Hanzo says. “First round is on me.”

Jesse grins. “Yessir!”

Hanzo picks up his own bag and retreats to the adjoining bathroom, giving Jesse the bedroom to change in. He quickly undresses, out of his suit and into a pair of jeans and a casual dress shirt, and trades his leather shoes for a pair of sneakers. He takes the sash out of his hair, retying it into its usual top-knot, and breathes a sigh of relief; he is thankful that he has the rest of the day to recuperate. It has been over a decade since he has been in a meeting for that long.

And tomorrow he has to do it all again. He looks at his reflection and suppresses a shudder—he forgot just how draining meetings could be

Hanzo pushes that thought to the back of his mind. Approaching the door to the bedroom, Hanzo knocks twice. “May I enter?”

“Yup.”

Hanzo opens the door, eyes settling on Jesse as he walks around the room in only a pair of jeans. He lingers on his shirtless form for possibly a moment too long—not that anyone could really blame him. It is the first time Hanzo has seen Jesse in just a pair of jeans, and it is an absolutely flattering image: his broad shoulders taper into a narrow waist, his chest has the perfect amount of hair on it, his jeans hug and accentuate his butt and thighs.

Now on the wrong side of observant—not that Jesse seems to have noticed—Hanzo tears his eyes away, focusing on hanging his suit up on the hanger.

The urge to ask him what each scar on his back and chest is from is strong now, stronger than ever. Hanzo has spent enough time in the gym alone with a shirtless Jesse and his wandering thoughts on countless occasions already, imagining that each one has an incredible story.

“Just give me five minutes,” Jesse says, passing Hanzo. Hanzo nods, leaving the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

Winston, sitting at the dining table, gives Hanzo a hum as he walks past him, lost in his work. Entering the kitchenette, Hanzo fills up a glass of water and checks his phone as he drinks.

Unsurprisingly, there are no new notifications, not from the Osaka team who will still be in transit at this point in time, nor from the watchpoint. Opening a browser, he looks up bars, finding a small, highly rated pub within walking distance from the hotel that serves food. It's perfect.

When Jesse appears from the bedroom, he winks at Hanzo, and Hanzo cannot help but smile as his stomach flutters fiercely. He looks at Jesse’s attire, and while seeing him dressed in a pair of jeans and a plaid shirt is nothing new, Jesse has opted to leave the top _two_ buttons undone, gloriously showing off the hair that sits at the top of his chest.

Hanzo wants to do nothing more than run his fingers through it. He decides, there and then, that he _will_ make a move tonight.

Realising he is staring, his eyes snap to meet Jesse’s as he sits on the couch opposite him, and Jesse waggles his eyebrows. Hanzo looks away, back at his phone as embarrassment rises through him—of course he was caught staring.

“So,” Jesse starts, drawing Hanzo’s attention, before following his gaze to Winston. “Hanzo and I were headin’ out for a drink. Wanna come?”

Winston, buried in his tablet, turns his head in Jesse’s direction before looking at him after a moment. “No, I’m fine. I might order room service and watch a movie once I’m done with this. Don’t rush back, though. Enjoy yourselves.”

Jesse looks at Hanzo and grins. “Dinner?”

“Sounds good,” Hanzo replies, smiling. With this extended time, it will be the perfect opportunity to talk to Jesse about how he feels.

“Have fun, agents," Winston says. "And I’m sure it goes without saying that you are not to get too intoxicated. We are on a mission, after all.”

“‘Course, big guy,” Jesse says as he stands, patting Winston's shoulder. “We won’t stay out too late, either. Tomorrow will be _another_ big day.”

“It certainly will,” Winston sighs. If Hanzo were a betting man, he would say that Winston hates this about as much as he and Jesse do.

“Don’t spend too long on your presentation,” Jesse says softly. “You deserve a break too.”

“I know. I’ll only be thirty minutes.” Winston looks up and smiles. “Go, relax. I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks, big guy.” Jesse looks at Hanzo and smirks. “You ready?”

Hanzo nods, placing his glass in the dishwasher. “Enjoy your evening, Winston.”

“Will do,” Winston says, looking back at his tablet.

Hanzo follows Jesse out of their room. “I found a bar we can go to,” he says, pressing the call button for the elevator. “They serve food, too.”

“Perfect. Close?”

“A block away.”

“Even better.” Jesse looks at Hanzo and winks as the elevator chimes, turning away when the doors open.

Each wink Jesse gives is like a little blow to Hanzo's heart. There is only so much he can take before he just reaches out, grabs his shirt in two handfuls and pulls him down into a kiss. The restraint is definitely slipping in the small space between arriving at their hotel room and now.

Balling his hands into fists to stop just that, Hanzo follows Jesse inside. They ride in silence and time seems to tick by slowly—this _has_ to be the world’s slowest elevator. He stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets, just for something else to do, because once again he is speechless and does not know what to say.

He glances at Jesse, noticing that he is subtly nodding his head, arms folded across his chest and is drumming his fingers against his bicep to a silent beat. _That_ is a particular tick Hanzo has not seen Jesse do before.

Hanzo also has not seen Jesse this quiet before, and a small part of him cannot help but get a little giddy at the thought of Jesse being just as speechless as he is.

Jesse’s phone pings as the elevator chimes, dissolving the awkward silence. He pulls it from his pocket, looks at the screen, smiles faintly and huffs a laugh. “Genji says hi.”

“Is he bored?” Hanzo asks flatly. The elevator doors open and Jesse extends his arm. Hanzo bows his head and walks through.

“He most certainly is,” Jesse replies. “He’s run out of stuff to talk about with those that are awake and now he’s bothering me.”

Stepping out onto the street, Hanzo pulls his phone from his pocket and checks it. Still no new notifications. “I am surprised he has not messaged me,” he murmurs.

“You’re probably next.”

Hanzo hums as they turn the corner. He spots the sign for the bar in the distance, sliding his phone back into his pocket.

The smell of food mingles in the air as they pass several restaurants and bars. Entering the pub, Hanzo breathes in deep and his stomach growls angrily.

“Early dinner,” Hanzo states.

“Read my mind,” Jesse replies, taking the lead to the bar. He picks up a menu, Hanzo reads it from beside him.

Deciding on a pork schnitzel and a stein of beer, Hanzo places his order. Jesse orders the same, and before Jesse can pull out his wallet, Hanzo pays for both his and Jesse’s meals.

“You don't have to, I got cash,” Jesse says.

“Nonsense,” Hanzo replies, tapping his credit card to the reader. “I said I was buying.”

“You said drinks.”

“And we decided on early dinner.”

“A'ight,” Jesse breathes, picking up his stein as it's placed on the bar. “Dessert’s on me, then.”

Hanzo smiles and nods, picking up his stein and heading for a table in the corner of the room.

Jesse sighs in contentment as he sits. “To day one of a successful mission,” he says, raising his stein in toast.

Hanzo clinks his against Jesse's before taking a sip, humming in approval as the lager settles on his tongue. He swallows it down, takes a gulp before placing it back on the table.

“Not bad,” Jesse murmurs, looking at his stein before placing it down on a coaster. “Rein’ll be proud we stopped at a pub while we were here.”

“We will have to take a picture of the food for him.”

Jesse chuckles. “Now that’s straight up teasing. He wanted to come on this mission just to be back home for a couple days.”

“Perhaps we will show him later, then.”

Jesse smiles, picks up his stein and leans back in his seat. “So... How’s things?”

“Good.”

“You and Genj seem to be making progress.”

“We are…” Hanzo smiles wistfully, remembering their encounter this morning. “We are getting there.”

“Good, good.” Jesse pauses, taking a sip of beer. “I ah… saw that little cuddle this morning. He used to do it all the time in Blackwatch.”

“That is the first time he has done that since before…” Hanzo tries to think of the last time he and Genji had affectionate physical contact before the incident, and he is certain it was back before Father got sick. He hated how rough Genji could be, but having this little taste of it, he wants that bond they had to be repaired, for it to be stronger than before. “I did not realise how much I missed it.”

“That’s good, Han, really.”

“We are approaching a month since our last argument. It has been pleasant, I suppose, being in his company without wanting to leave.”

“I’m so happy for you. Both of you.” Jesse smiles wide, holding up his glass in toast again. “To being in a better place.”

“To the best mediator we could have asked for,” Hanzo adds, clinking his stein against Jesse’s and taking a sip.

When Jesse pulls his glass away, he is smiling sheepishly. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You were there,” Hanzo replies, smiling back, and his stomach flutters again.

He could—he _should—_ tell Jesse, right here, right now, how much Jesse just _being_ there meant to him. That Hanzo could not have made it through the tougher nights without his kindness. But the more he wants to, the more he finds himself hesitating, holding back, and ultimately, letting it go.

Jesse already knows. _Surely_ he already knows.

“You were there,” Hanzo repeats, quieter.

Jesse looks back, smiling, but otherwise unmoving. He does not say anything, but Hanzo can see in his eyes—big and bright and sparkling—that he _wants_ to. After what feels like an eternity, he opens his mouth. “Han—”

“Two pork schnitzels.”

Hanzo glances at the waitress, silently cursing her sudden arrival at the most inopportune moment. Suppressing a sigh, he nods and sits back, letting her place the plates on the table.

“Enjoy,” she says before walking away.

Hanzo glances at Jesse and frowns. Whatever he was going to say died with the interruption it seems, as he grabs his knife and fork and digs into the schnitzel. With a sigh, he picks up his own cutlery.

While they eat in silence, Hanzo imagines what Jesse might have said, a situation where Jesse confesses that he has feelings for him, that he wants to act on them. A situation where Jesse stands, walks around the table, sits next to him, cups his face and kisses him softly.

Hanzo wants that. More than anything else in the world right now.

“Hanzo.”

Blinking back into now, Hanzo’s eyes snap to meet Jesse’s, and he frowns.

Jesse chuckles. “You were on another planet, weren’t you?”

“I…” Hanzo looks around the bar, and it is so incredibly full all of a sudden. How long was he zoned out? As much as his heart is screaming at him to lean across the table, grab his collar, pull him in close and kiss him, he realises it is something he cannot— _will not_ —do with an audience. “I was just admiring the flavours of the schnitzel,” he says, and hates it with every fibre of his being.

“It certainly was delicious.”

Jesse’s plate is empty, his beer almost finished. Hanzo looks at his own plate. With half left and almost his full stein, he takes a few quick gulps of beer and finishes off the schnitzel, cursing himself for getting distracted and missing _whatever_ Jesse was saying.

“So…” Jesse starts, and Hanzo meets his gaze. “What were you feeling for dessert?”

Hanzo’s eyes flick to the little card sitting on the table, and he picks it up, reading the list. His German is not the greatest, but there is one thing that he recognises because Reinhardt made it once and Hanzo has been craving it ever since. “The cheesecake.”

“Yeah, I was eyeing that off too. Rein doesn’t make it nearly enough as he should.”

“I know!”

Jesse grins. “I didn’t know you liked it _that_ much.”

Hanzo nods furiously. “The worst part was when I went to the fridge for the leftovers, it was gone.”

“Whoops,” Jesse says sheepishly. “If I’d known, I would've shared it with you.”

“ _I_ thought _you_ were my friend,” Hanzo says, tsking slowly and dramatically. “But you steal the last _quarter_ of the cake meant for _everyone_ and keep it all for yourself.”

“In my defence,” Jesse says, raising his right hand, “it _had_ been sitting in there for a day. If you wanted it, you should have come sooner.”

Hanzo scoffs. “We had spent the day training! There _was_ no sooner!”

“Early bird gets the worm,” Jesse replies with a shrug.

Hanzo hums disapprovingly, looking Jesse up and down as picking up his stein and taking a hearty gulp.

“But next time, I’ll make sure to share it with you.”

“Next time,” Hanzo smirks devilishly, “ _I_ will make sure you do not get any leftovers. You have had more than your fill.”

Jesse gasps, pressing his hand to his chest, and Hanzo waggles his eyebrows before getting the passing waitresses’ attention and ordering two slices of the cheesecake. When Hanzo looks back, Jesse is still in his faux state of shock, although now he is grinning.

“You are stone cold, sir.”

Hanzo merely shrugs, accepting that fact. He cannot help the smile on his lips though—he is so incredibly happy that Jesse is not off-put by his humour.

The cheesecakes are set down on the table moments later, and Hanzo practically inhales it. Jesse eats his slice just as fast, humming and moaning almost obscenely with each bite, scraping off every minuscule smudge with his spoon, using his index finger to sweep up the crumbs.

“Just lick the plate,” Hanzo says disapprovingly.

“Ain’t raised in a barn,” Jesse replies. He brings his thumb up to his mouth slowly, sucks seductively and winks.

Hanzo all but short-circuits. His mind fills with all kinds of sensual imagery and he feels the heat creep up his cheeks. It gives him an out, and he roughly picks up his stein, drinking to hide his face. He downs the lot of it in a series of large gulps.

That was a mistake. He sets the stein down and covers his mouth to burp silently, which of course it does not, and if the ground swallowed him up right now, he would accept his fate.

“Whoa there," Jesse says with a chuckle, "you all right?”

“I have made a mistake,” Hanzo replies, burping again.

“You’re not going to be sick, are you?”

Hanzo shakes his head. “No.” He gives himself a moment, and when he is confident that he is in the clear, he pulls his hand away. _Should_ he ask Jesse what the _hell_ that was all about? It is not like he does not know what Jesse was implying, he could not have been _clearer._ Can he really give in, take Jesse's hand and lead him back to the hotel, kiss him and _more_ , knowing Winston is sharing the same hotel room?

If there is one thing for certain, it is a bad idea simply because of how full his stomach is right now. The last thing he wants is to _jiggle_ noisily and break the mood. The alcohol will also make him sleepy soon anyway. He should not have ordered a stein, he should have gone with something smaller.

With a sigh, he looks at Jesse. “It would probably be for the best if we went back to the hotel room,” he says, quiet, reluctant.

Jesse smiles sympathetically, nodding. “No worries, Han.” He stands, pats Hanzo on the shoulder, approaches the counter to pay for the desserts.

Hanzo curses himself, his indecisiveness, his need to overthink every single one of Jesse's actions. If he let it all go, he could have kissed Jesse a dozen times already. 

Pushing that aside, Hanzo stands, meeting Jesse at the counter as he finishes up, and they walk back to the hotel in an awkward silence. Hanzo contemplates reaching for Jesse’s hand and holding it, a signal that he _is_ interested in him and that he was in no way off off-put by his clear flirting, but standing in the hotel lobby as the elevator doors open, he is no closer to making a decision to do it or not. 

Jesse presses the button for their floor and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

So much for that idea.

When the elevator reaches their floor, Hanzo follows behind Jesse. He opens the door and holds it open, smiling, and Hanzo bows his head, stepping in and settling on Winston, still sitting at the dining table, hunched over his tablet.

“You’re still working?!” Jesse cries from behind him.

Winston looks up at them blearily, then at his tablet. “I… yes,” he says timidly.

“Gotta relax, big guy,” Jesse says, approaching him, patting his shoulder and looking at his tablet. “The presentation’s fine, I’ve seen it.”

“I know, but it’s not _perfect_ ,” Winston replies, sighing. He takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes.

“You could be working till the cows come home,” Jesse says, gentle. He looks at the empty plate beside the tablet. “At least you’ve had something to eat.”

“I did,” Winston replies.

“Get some rest,” Hanzo says. “You have worked hard enough on this.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Winston murmurs. He puts the tablet in standby, picks it up as he stands. “I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”

“‘Night, big guy.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Winston replies, retreating to his room.

“You can have the bathroom first,” Jesse says, bumping his elbow against Hanzo’s gently. “You look like you’re about to pass out from exhaustion.”

Hanzo hums, looking up at him. “I did not realise how exhausting this day would be,” Hanzo replies, opening the door to their bedroom.

“It’s knocked you out, that’s for sure.”

Humming, Hanzo digs through his bag for his toiletries. He quickly showers to wash the day away, brushes his teeth, and by the time he is done, he is so tired he can barely keep his eyes open. He murmurs a quiet goodnight to Jesse as he steps into the bathroom, and the second he closes his eyes, he is asleep.

* * *

“Hey—oh." Lena's smile drops from her face. "That bad?”

Jesse grunts as he passes her. Hanzo nods.

“They weren’t interested in anything we had to offer,” Winston says, sighing.

“What did they want then?”

“To tell us it was a monumentally bad idea,” Jesse answers, huffing. “That Overwatch wasn’t there for them during the first crisis. That history repeats itself," he rolls his eyes, "blah blah blah.”

“Ouch,” Lena says, patting Winston on the shoulder. “I’m sorry, big guy.”

“It’s all right, we knew we would encounter resistance and scepticism one day.” Winston takes off his glasses, rubbing his eyes. “I just wasn’t expecting it so soon.”

Lena nods. “At least the Japanese dignitaries were interested in our help,” she says brightly. She always is a beacon of light in a moment of darkness.

“One positive to take away from this mission,” Winston says, smiling weakly.

“How about we cheer you up with some music? We can sing along to some of Luna’s songs.” Lena punches him in the arm gently. “That always lifts your mood.”

Winston huffs a laugh. “Thank you, Lena,” he says before heading up to the cockpit. Lena offers a sympathetic smile before joining him. 

“We’ll want to put on the dampeners,” Jesse says, stowing his bag in the overhead compartment. “You _do not_ want to listen to them sing.” He approaches the loveseat, sitting down in the corner with a large sigh, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his eyes.

Hanzo places his bags in the compartment, closing it and taking a seat next to Jesse. “Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Jesse answers. "Torture, Han. It's easier, I'm telling you."

Hanzo smiles, growing wider and hoping he can lift Jesse's mood. "Can I make you a coffee?”

Jesse drops his hands, looking at Hanzo and smiling. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Placing a comforting hand on Jesse’s shoulder and squeezing, Hanzo stands, activating the coffee machine. He works quickly as the shuttle rumbles to life, handing Jesse his mug and sitting down just before it takes off. The ride is smooth as it always is, but he can never be too careful. When soft jazz music carries from the cockpit, Jesse activates the dampeners.

“Thanks for this,” Jesse says, raising his mug in toast. “You really know how to make a man feel appreciated.”

Hanzo smiles, and his stomach does a flip. He realises now would be a _perfect_ opportunity to tell Jesse how he feels, to discuss the kiss, what it means, how they will proceed going forward. Lena and Winston will not hear them and they will not be disturbed.

“I…” Hanzo looks away, taking a shaky breath before meeting Jesse’s gaze again. “I would like to talk about the other night.”

Jesse huffs a laugh. “Was wondering when you’d ask about it.”

“Is there more to it?” Hanzo asks nervously.

“It’s been something I’ve wanted to do for a long while,” Jesse replies. His smile softens, his eyes are warm and inviting. “I like you, Han.”

Hanzo cannot help but smile back. “I like you too,” he murmurs.

“I cherish every single moment we spend together. From training to movie night to missions, I love spending time with you.” He places his mug down, slides his hand across the table and rests it on top of Hanzo’s. “I know I shouldn’t be saying this, cause we don’t exactly have safest jobs, but I can’t deny my feelings for you any longer. You’re smart, funny, playful. You have _excellent_ taste in movies and booze… And I kinda wanna kiss you. _Properly_ kiss you.”

Hanzo is sure he is grinning like a lovestruck fool, and as much as he _wants_ to kiss Jesse right this very second, he needs to tell Jesse how he feels. “Yesterday, when I said you were there for me, I meant it. There were nights, after a massive blow up with Genji, where I wanted nothing more than to leave Overwatch because I was clearly causing him stress. While I may have shown through my behaviour that I did not want your company, having you there to discuss what happened, reassuring me that there will be better days…" Hanzo takes a deep, shuddering breath. "I am so grateful for that.”

“Of course,” Jesse murmurs. “No one deserves to be left alone to stew on their thoughts after an argument.”

“I have had feelings for you since then.”

Jesse huffs a laugh. “Why didn’t we do anything about it earlier?”

Hanzo’s smile softens, and he slides in closer to Jesse, their thighs pressed together. “A fear of ruining the friendship,” he says quietly.

“Nothing could _ever_ ruin my friendship with you, Han.”

“Same,” Hanzo whispers, looking into Jesse’s warm eyes.

Heart pounding in his chest, Hanzo pushes away his brain for all the help it has been up until this moment and embraces the fact that _this_ is happening as he leans in slowly. He does not stop when he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, choosing to ignores it—whatever it is, it can wait, considering it is likely Genji. Jesse meets him and Hanzo feels as light as a cloud as his nose brushes against Jesse’s cheek, as he feels the gentle caress of Jesse’s breath against his lips.

Jesse stops then, does not continue and Hanzo moves in, closing the distance—

The shuttle takes a hard turn. Jesse falls back, Hanzo falls on top of him, face pressed to his chest.

Well.

This was not the first kiss Hanzo imagined, and this is not the most unpleasant of places to end up, with his face pressed against the bare skin of Jesse's chest, breathing in his smell. He tries to move away because it is awkward and embarrassing, but the shuttle is still mid-turn and he cannot move.

When the shuttle finally equalises, Hanzo pulls away from Jesse, covering his face with his hand. “That was—”

“Sorry about that!” Lena’s voice carries from the intercom above their head. “We’ve received word that the Osaka mission has gone south, so we’re heading straight there. ETA ten hours.”

Hanzo drops his hand, looks at Jesse as he reaches for his phone in his pocket.

His heart leaps into his throat when he reads the notification.

_Request for immediate backup. Omnium activated. Multiple casualties reported. Genji is critically injured._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE DREADED CLIFFHANGER! DUN DUN DUN!!
> 
> I know what you're all thinking: But Chillie, why wouldn't Hanzo fall to Jesse's lap? That would be more interesting and a ton more awkward!
> 
> Because this is a T-rated fic, that's why. And you can *clearly* see that they are moving at a glacial pace as Hanzo overthinks every. little. decision. And Jesse is so dang patient while upping the flirt factor ten-fold.
> 
> Hoping the next chapter isn't another 4-ish months :)


	3. The Pull of Gravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello folks!!
> 
> I am so sorry this took so long. If you've been following me on Twitter, you've seen I've talked about struggling with what actually goes down in this 'mission gone wrong' part of the fic. It clicked about a month ago, but legit wanting to write it all down was a pain in the neck. I finally made myself do it, and here we are. I'm quite pleased with how it's turned out. 
> 
> It's also a longer update, an apology for the delay of sorts. Reality is this one really got away from me XD
> 
> Enjoy <3

“Hanzo, please, sit down.”

Hanzo shakes his head dismissively. He’s been pacing for the better part of six hours now and is showing no signs of stopping. 

It’s a shame the shuttle can’t get to Osaka faster. The craft is so old that they have to fly cautiously or risk literally breaking apart. 

Huffing, Jesse reaches into his pocket and aggressively shoves his cigar in his mouth. Commercial airlines fly faster than this. 

Jesse would give his right arm to get Hanzo there faster. It’s not fair that just when things were starting to look up between him and Genji, it’s threatened. Hanzo worked damn hard to reach a point where he can stand _looking_ at himself in the mirror without wanting to punch the thing. 

Genji fought hard too, battling with second-guessing himself and occasionally regretting inviting Hanzo to join Overwatch in the early days. The word 'regret' when talking about Hanzo hasn't been uttered in a damn long while. It’s unjust that it could be taken away so soon.

Jesse sighs deeply, shifting the cigar from one side of his mouth to the other. The last word they got on Genji’s condition was two hours ago, saying that he was critical but stable, and was asleep. 

The details of what happened are vague, given all hands were in the thick of the attack, but it seems there was a large-scale EMP accompanied with a drone assault on the omnium. Despite the omnium being in an abandoned section of the industrial zone, the EMP was so large it hit everything in a two-mile radius, including the neighbouring town. 

The full details of casualties and damage to the other buildings are yet to be determined, but it honestly could have been much worse. Omnics these days, technology, folks with cybernetics, it's all shielded against EMPs. _Why_ someone would hit the omnium with an EMP remains to be seen. 

The strange thing with Genji's case is that he shouldn't have been affected by the EMP in the first place. Something somewhere has gone wrong, Angie suspects he sustained damage to his systems leading up to the attack. 

Angie, at the very least, got to him in no time and restored his system, but he was unconscious and not breathing for at least five minutes. While he might be mostly cybernetic, he does require oxygen to live. Oxygen deprivation is a bitch, and there’s only so much modern medicine can do.

Jesse pushes that thought aside. Angie’s the best doctor in the world. She knows Genji more than anyone else—she won’t let him die. 

In all honesty, Genji is too damn stubborn to die.

In the meantime, they've been keeping in touch with Ana and Rein in the control room, and it's been 'nothing new to report' for five straight hours. The attack on the omnium itself was a failure, the EMP did nothing, the drone attack was piss week, it barely did any damage. 

The omnium _did_ activate, however. The current theory is that it was a self-defence mechanism, a failsafe to come online in the event of an attack. As to why, that remains to be seen; it appears it hasn't started mass producing thousands of killbots, so that's a positive at this stage. 

So far, no one's claimed responsibility for the attack, and police are no closer to finding out who is. If there's one thing they do know, though, it's that the technology used goes beyond what local thugs can get their hands on. 

But why attack the omnium in the first place? That's the big, glaring question. What's the end goal? Jesse thinks himself good at predicting moves, staying one step ahead of the enemy, but attacking the omnium, just to restart it, knowing that it'll be shut down as soon as it's safe to do so? _That_ is what's most baffling.

There _has_ to be a legitimate reason for this whole charade. There was the initial tip, then the attack; a failure. Unless, of course, the EMP was just phase one, to generate a large scale response, and phase two is yet to take place. 

Jesse keeps that theory to himself for the moment, sighing as he watches Hanzo walk back and forth, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it for what has to be the thousandth time already, then huffing as he slides it back in. This whole operation, the attack on the omnium, it just doesn't make sense. He has too many questions and no answers, and Jesse _hates_ being in the dark. 

There is one theory though, a thread that he's keeping tightly wound because it's probably his paranoia talking, but it makes the most sense at the moment: it's what _he_ would do if he discovered a recall of Overwatch had taken place. 

He'd love to bounce it off someone—Hanzo would be perfect, to either tell him it's ridiculous or agree that Winston should be told, but he's working on his own shit at the moment. There's honestly nothing stopping him from going to Winston about it, but he'll worry about something that could be nothing, and he's already got enough on his plate as it is. So for the time being, Jesse will keep it tucked in the back of his mind because it _is_ ridiculous, and focus on what little factual evidence they have. 

“Incoming message!” Winston calls from the cockpit, and Hanzo glances at Jesse before sprinting off. Jesse follows behind, chewing on the butt of his cigar. They crowd behind Winston, he answers the call, and Genji appears on the screen, flashing a peace sign.

“Genji,” Hanzo breathes, his shoulders sagging. 

“Yo.” Genji smiles weakly. He looks worse for wear, his skin is pale and his eyes are bloodshot, but he is okay, and that’s all that matters.

“Good to see you’re in one piece,” Jesse says, placing a hand on Hanzo’s shoulder. Hanzo grabs it, holding tight. 

“It was just a flesh wound,” he says with a small, mischievous smirk.

“It was not—” the screen shakes around for a moment before settling on an irate Angie. She's got bags under her eyes, her hair is a mess, but she eases into a small smile despite it. “It was _much_ more than that,” she says, side-eyeing Genji, “but Genji is okay and will make a full recovery _provided_ he gets some rest." Then she frowns. "So please, Hanzo, stop messaging me for an update. I thought dealing with one Shimada was bad, the two of you together are unbearable!”

“Apologies,” Hanzo says meekly. 

“What’s the latest, Dr. Ziegler?” Winston asks.

Angie sighs. “The last of the patients in triage have been ferried out by ambulances to receive proper hospital care. It's been calm on the ground ever since the initial attack, and police still have no word on who is responsible.”

Winston hums, nodding his head. “We’ll keep an eye on chatter through social media here. Odds are we’ll hear something from a witness before the police make an official comment." Winston sighs, taking off his glasses. "How is everyone else?”

“Out there," Angie replies, glancing to her left. "Defences have been set up around the omnium thanks to Torbjörn, and there is a heavy police presence. Thankfully, as our cover is now blown, we haven’t encountered any resistance.”

“Good," Winston breathes. "Despite the complaint made by the government against Overwatch all those years ago, Japan was— _are_ eager to work with us.” 

“What is your ETA?” Angie asks. “With Genji down and me on stand by incase more victims are found, we could use the numbers.”

“Four hours,” Lena replies. “I could punch it though, we’d be able to get there in two.”

“We don’t want to exert the engines, though," Winston says gravely. "We do need to get back home once we’re done." 

“No worries," Lena says with a wink, "I’ll make sure to back off if they start to run a little hot."

Winston sighs deeply and nods. “All right then, Lena, let’s do it.”

“Aye aye!”

“Expect us there in two hours at least,” Winston says, turning his attention back to Angie.

“I’ll let the team know,” Angie replies. “Now," she pauses to yawn, long and loud and covering her mouth with the back of her hand. " _If_ you will excuse me, I am going to find a quiet corner of the room and pass out for fifteen minutes.”

Jesse huffs a laugh. “Sleep well, Angie.”

“I intend to.” Angie hands the screen back to Genji. “Five minutes." 

“I know,” Genji replies. He looks off-screen, and after a few moments looks back. “I would love to talk to each of you, but I know Angela is not going to sleep until this tablet is out of my hands. I would like to speak with Hanzo alone.”

Hanzo nods, pulling his phone out of his pocket and stepping away. Jesse looks at his palm, cold and empty, balling his hand into a fist and savouring Hanzo's residual touch.

“Rest up, Genji,” Winston says. 

“Will do," Genji replies. "See you in a couple of hours." With a final smile, the screen goes blank, replaced with the Overwatch logo. 

There is a moment of silence between the three of them that only stretches. Jesse takes a breath when Hanzo’s frantic yet relieved Japanese carries from the deck below.

“I think I might try and get some sleep myself,” Winston says, rubbing his eyes.

“Yeah, rest up, big guy." Lena reclines in her seat and curls her legs under herself. “It’s been a big day.”

"I'm sure you've done enough stressing to last a lifetime," Jesse says, patting Winston's shoulder. "You deserve a break."

Winston hums, sliding on his glasses. "You'll be fine up here?" he asks, looking at Lena.

"Yep. Ain't going anywhere," she replies.

"I'll keep her company," Jesse says softly.

"All right." Winston sighs as he stands up. "Let me know the minute we're in Japanese airspace."

"Will do," Lena says. "'Night, big guy."

"Sleep well," Jesse adds.

Winston hums, giving a tired wave as he turns, his feet drag as he walks away.

“He okay?” Jesse asks when Winston is on the lower deck, falling into the seat wearily. 

“Yeah." Lena inhales and exhales slowly. "Blames himself of course.”

Jesse sighs. “When does he not?” It’s one of Winston’s downfalls; he cares _too_ much. But it means that he’ll make an excellent leader of this new Overwatch he’s trying to build. “And you?”

“Yeah, I’m all right. Bit tired but nothing a catnap won't fix.”

Jesse hums, reclining the seat and getting comfortable. “Two hours?”

Lena nods, tapping at the console. “Yep. Athena’s taken over and she’ll adjust the course and speed if necessary.”

“Good,” Jesse says, yawning. He feels incredibly bone achingly tired all of a sudden. There’s a brief moment of silence, and when Jesse hears Hanzo’s chuckle from the bottom of the stairs, he can’t help but smile. He’ll have to check in with Hanzo later, just to make sure he’s okay.

“So…” Lena says, and Jesse glances at her from the corner of his eye, his smile growing a little wider at her eyebrow wiggle. “Did you have the _talk_?”

“No," Jesse replies, pulling his cigar from his mouth. "Well. Sort of. Didn’t get a chance to tell him _everything._ ”

“Bugger.” Lena chews her bottom lip, meeting Jesse’s eyes. “Did I interrupt it?”

“Naw, didn’t get round to it, but you did interrupt something _else_ …” Jesse waggles his eyebrows, smile growing wider as he watches Lena’s expression morph from confusion to realisation. 

“Oh shit, Jess,” she buries her face in her hands, “I’m so sorry!”

“‘S all right, it was just a kiss.”

“Oh.” Lena frowns. “ _Oh_. I thought you meant—”

“How fast do you think we’re moving?” Jesse says with a chuckle. “I wanna make sure we take things slow, y’know. Don’t wanna move too fast and ruin everything we’ve built.”

“Yeah, I know, you said that the other day, but still… you put up the dampening field and it was more than a few minutes…”

“Ain’t gonna risk anything with you literally up a flight of stairs,” Jesse says quickly, pulling down his hat to cover his face. Just _thinking_ of being with Hanzo in _that_ way is making him blush something fierce. “When— _if_ we get there, I don’t want to rush it.”

“Gotcha. Older you likes to take care of your lovers,” Lena says with a slow, sly wink. "Bit different to the Blackwatch agent who had someone new in his bed every night."

"That was then and this is—" Jesse huffs, rolling his eyes at Lena's grin. “Can we stop this now?”

“Fine. But when you do actually properly kiss him, I want to be the first to know.”

“Okay,” Jesse groans, pocketing his cigar and dropping his hat over his eyes to be done with this conversation. “I'm going to sleep now.”

* * *

Jesse takes a shaky breath as the shuttle lurches, landing on solid ground. 

It had been a restless final two hours in this damned shuttle, spent drifting in and out of consciousness. He couldn’t get to sleep straight away, his brain was insistent on turning over every single piece of evidence they have on the attack. 

He got up for the change of scenery and to see how Hanzo was after his call with Genji ended, but found him fast asleep on the loveseat. His head was pillowed on his arms on top of the table, and it was the most peaceful he has ever seen Hanzo. 

Jesse went back to the cockpit after that, imagining a scenario where he wakes up next to that sleeping face every morning, sweeping Hanzo's hair behind his ear. It's the last thing he remembers before being awoken by Lena five short minutes ago. Apparently, he slept through half an hour of her and Winston chatting idly. 

He glances at Hanzo beside him, eyes closed, wringing his hands around the handle of his bow. Even like this, worry eating away at him, he's simply beautiful. "Everything okay?" Jesse asks, gently knocking his elbow against Hanzo's. 

"Yes," Hanzo breathes, opening his eyes and glancing at him. "Just apprehensive."

Jesse nods, smiling softly. "Genji's okay, we'll handle this, then we'll go home and call it a job well done."

"Are you always this optimistic?" Hanzo asks, smirking playfully.

"Not always," Jesse replies, chuckling. "But uh…" he sideways glances at Winston sitting at the loveseat, distracted in whatever he's reading, and gives Hanzo his full attention. He reaches out, placing his hand on top of Hanzo's. "I just want you to know that it'll all work out. And I'm always here if you wanna chat. About anything."

Hanzo glances at their joined hands, a smile spreading on his lips. "When you are not drooling all over your shoulder, that is."

"Damn, you saw me too?" Jesse chuckles, resisting the urge to hide the wet spot on his serape. "That couldn't have been a pretty sight."

"It was cute." 

Jesse snorts. "I just think you've got low standards, Hanzo."

"Maybe you are just my weakness."

_Maybe you are just my weakness._

The words echo in Jesse's mind, over and over, and if he were to die this very moment, he'd die a happy man. It isn't _the_ confession, those three little words, but it might as well be. 

If that hatch wasn't seconds away from opening, or if Winston wasn’t sitting literally five feet away, Jesse would reach out, cup Hanzo's face, tip his head back and kiss him. 

Putting a cap on those desires for the time being, Jesse wets his too dry lips. "Well,” he says, as coolly as he can manage, despite feeling like a rocket ready to go off, “you know how to make a man feel appreciated."

Hanzo eyes him up and down, slowly and slyly. He closes the gap between them, his chest presses against Jesse's with the finest feather touch as he looks up at him. "We were not finished with our _conversation._ "

"We were pretty past talking," Jesse says. Looking into Hanzo’s eyes, his heart hammers in his chest. Like an object responding to the pull of gravity, Jesse feels himself being drawn in, leaning down to meet Hanzo's height.

"We will have to pick up where we left off," Hanzo murmurs. He's close enough now that Jesse can feel the caress of his breath on his lips. Hanzo's eyes flit down, then he takes a step back. "After."

Jesse suppresses the urge to pull Hanzo back and kiss him, nodding instead. "Yeah, sure," he says, taking back his hand. "Mission first, _talking_ after."

“Ready?” Lena asks, winking as she passes them, twirling her pistol into her holster.

Hanzo stands up straight, drawing his shoulders back. “As I will ever be.”

Lena opens the hatch, the cabin pressurises with a hiss. Jesse rests his hand on Peacekeeper’s hilt, ready to draw, and getting his first look of the outside world in eight hours, it’s calm and silent. Eerily silent. 

Jesse isn’t too sure _what_ he expected, but it wasn’t _this_. The sun is starting to rise, the sky is a deep, midnight blue. It’s a moonless night, still, and surprisingly chilly given it's summer. Jesse shivers as the hatch finally touches the ground, and he settles on Hana who greets them with a friendly wave. 

“About time you four showed up,” she says, stuffing her hands in her pockets and hunching her shoulders, an attempt to garner as much warmth as possible no doubt. 

“What’s the situation?” Winston asks.

“Silent," Hana replies. "It’s been silent since the initial attack.”

“I’m glad,” Winston says slowly, “but highly suspicious.”

“Me too, big guy,” Jesse replies. If Winston is just as suspicious about the attack, it might be worth mentioning his theory after all. 

He keeps quiet for now; he'll wait for the briefing.

“We all are,” Hana says. “We’ve got eyes on the omnium, defences set up in the off chance of another attack. We're not sure if it _is_ going to happen, but we'll be ready.” She looks at Hanzo and smiles. "Genji's awake again."

“I wish to see him,” Hanzo says. 

“Sure thing. Everyone is waiting there for a briefing anyways.”

They follow Hana to the lone tent, guarded by four armed police officers. Winston stops to chat with them, and Jesse follows Hana and Hanzo inside. Torbjörn is asleep on one of the gurneys, Genji is sitting up, on his phone, and his eyes light up when he sees them. Hanzo rushes over and Jesse gives them a moment, making his way to Angie. 

“Hey,” Jesse says, placing a hand on her shoulder. 

“Jesse.” Angie puts down her tablet, giving them her full attention. “It’s about time.”

“Yeah.” Jesse nudges Lena with his elbow playfully when she stands beside him. “Transit’s a bitch.”

“Well until we acquire teleportation technology,” Lena says, “we’re stuck with long flights.”

Jesse chuckles. “The bane of—”

A loud, thunderous boom cracks in the air, and in the split-second Jesse has to react, he pulls Hana and Lena in close, pushing them into Angie and protecting them from the resulting shockwave of the explosion. The ground rumbles violently, the tent shakes like it’s caught in a hurricane, and sounds like it’s about to collapse on itself. 

When it passes, a loud chorus of alarms fills the void, and Jesse pulls away cautiously. “You guys okay?” he asks, looking between them. 

“Yeah,” Lena says as Hana and Angie nod.

“What the hell was that?” Torbjörn says, sitting up. 

“Don’t know,” Jesse murmurs, half absent as he settles on Hanzo pulling away from Genji, placing a hand on his chest and shoulder. Genji nods, eyes darting around the room before settling on Hanzo and he nods again. Jesse breathes a sigh of relief when Hanzo glances over his shoulder and smiles weakly.

“There was an explosion inside the omnium,” Winston says, frantic. “Hana, Jesse, Lena, Hanzo you’re with me. Torbjörn and Angela, monitor from here.”

Jesse unholsters Peacekeeper and Hanzo walks in step with him, following Winston out. Police units who must’ve been in the immediate area pull up to the omnium, more flashing lights can be seen in the distance. The officers congregating by the main gate are shouting orders in Japanese, and Hanzo steps in, seamlessly joining their conversation. Jesse picks up a few words but nothing more than that, it’s been years since he last practised Japanese and they’re speaking too fast. 

After a moment, Hanzo steps away and approaches them. “They will maintain the perimeter, allowing us access to the omnium. We are to report directly to them with anything we find.”

“Thank you, Hanzo,” Winston says. “Hana and Hanzo, I want you two on the roof. Lena and Jesse, inside with me. We need to make sure the explosion didn’t damage the fusion cores, and if it did, try to shut it down with as little time as we’ve got.”

“Got it,” Jesse says, following Winston and Lena through the gate. The building itself doesn’t look damaged, there’s no smoke billowing from the roof, so _what_ exactly was the cause of the explosion remains to be seen. He doesn’t dwell on it further as he steps inside, praying to anyone that’ll listen that he isn’t about to cop a lethal dose of radiation and die before he’s kissed Hanzo and told him how he feels.

Jesse’s never been inside an omnium before, but cold and sterile and silent was not what he was expecting. He supposes, just being reactivated again, that there wouldn’t be the loud whirr of machines, a production line of omnics being built. At this stage it’s just reactivation of the core, and that in itself is a slow process.

“This way,” Winston says, looking at a holographic schematic of the omnium and taking a right turn. “At this stage, Athena’s not picking up any radiation spikes so we might be in the clear.”

“That’s good,” Jesse murmurs. He keeps an eye and an ear out for anything on their six, any omnics which may have staged the attack and are infected with the God Program 2.0 and are looking to kill them, and so far so good. 

They take an elevator to the core—Jesse’s sceptical that they should be in a moving box of death after an explosion but there isn’t a loss of power to the facility or abnormalities that Athena can detect so Winston believes it’s fine. 

After what feels like an eternity, Jesse growing more anxious with every passing moment, they reach the core. Winston approaches a console, tapping away it at before sighing. “It’s not damaged,” he says in absolute relief. “Hanzo, report.” 

“Nothing on the roof, no one approaching.”

“Finally some good news,” Winston breathes. 

“There is smoke billowing from a window on the east corner of the omnium, however. Top floor.”

Winston shifts the hologram to the eastern corner. “That’s office space,” he murmurs. “It should be devoid of any materials which could cause an explosion.”

“Deliberate?” Lena asks.

“Could be,” Winston replies. “But it’s also the farthest point from the core.” He covers his mouth with his hand for a moment, deep in thought. “Hanzo, get in contact with the police, apprise them of the situation. Lena and I will shut down the core, Jesse, you head in that direction, see if there’s anyone or anything out of the ordinary.”

Jesse nods. “On it.” 

Cocking Peacekeeper’s hammer, Jesse races off. He follows the winding corridors, taking the stairwell to the roof because he doesn’t trust the elevators this close to the fire. 

Halfway up, he sees a purple haze on the corner of his eye. By the time he turns around, it’s gone. Looking up the stairwell, then down, and listening out for an echo of footsteps, he deems after a long moment of silence that he’s alone. It could be his mind playing tricks on him; being inside this omnium is bringing back nightmares of his firsthand experience of the Crisis. He vividly remembers the purple OR-14s clomping through town as his mother sheltered them behind a bush and held her hand over his mouth to stop him from screaming when bodies started falling not two feet away. 

He is acutely aware, though, that that was then and this is now. With the eradication of the God Program, there are strict measures in place to stop history from repeating itself. While this omnium remains inactive, the slow restart of other omniums worldwide is in place. But coupled with the threats of attack on several in recent times, and this one spontaneously restarting, he’ll forever be wary of what _could_ happen. 

Continuing on his way, slower and more cautious, he finally reaches the top floor. Reaching out, he tests the door handle with the back of his flesh hand, and when he feels the cool metal, he cautiously opens the door just a crack, shielding his face with his prosthetic arm. 

When there’s no backdraft, he breathes a sigh of relief and opens the door wide, looking down the corridor, left then right. He expected smoke and the fire suppression system to be active, a wall blown in—the telltale signs of an explosion. Instead, it’s just as cold and sterile and untouched as the rest of the omnium. 

This is just too strange now, he’s got a bad feeling in his gut. He pulls on that thread in his mind, shaking loose his theory that this was a staged attack purely to observe Overwatch’s response. It's too convenient that the 'explosion' happened not five minutes after they landed, and now there's absolutely no evidence to even suggest there was one in the first place. 

Jesse taps at the comm in his ear. “Winston, come in.” Greeted with silence, he tries again. “Winston?” He frowns. “Hanzo? Lena?” More silence, another tap. “Angie?”

Jesse huffs. He should exit the building, make contact with them on the ground; if he can’t contact them, they can’t contact him. The last thing he wants is for Winston to send a search party for him and put potentially more people in danger.

But when he sees another flash of purple down the corridor, and this time he’s _certain_ he saw it, he sprints off. This whole situation is all kinds of screwed up and he’s going to get answers. 

Rounding the corner and through a doorway, he enters the open-plan office space. There absolutely wasn’t an explosion here, everything is as untouched as the day it was abandoned. He approaches a desk, running his finger along it, sweeping up the dust. 

Whatever Hanzo saw, it didn’t come from here. 

He taps at his comm again. “Winston, come in.”

Silence. 

Holding back a growl, he turns his back on the office. Winston needs to know what’s up—whatever is going on, it’s not making any sense at all.

“Ah!”

Jesse stops in his tracks when he feels the press of a muzzle in the centre of his back. From the corner of his eye, he looks over his shoulder, seeing familiar purple hair and a smug smirk. 

Sombra waggles her eyebrows. “Hands up.”

Raising his hands slowly, Jesse flicks down Peacekeeper’s hammer as a sign of surrender. When her gun is pulled away—albeit still aimed at him—he turns, facing her. “Should’ve figured Talon would be all over this,” he says, calmly, evenly, despite his fury and apprehension. He knew this whole operation had to involve some large scale organisation, and Talon, despite it being questionable, did fit the bill.

Sombra winks slyly. “When did you figure it out?”

“Had a good eight hours to think about every possible scenario. Local gangs don’t have this kind of tech, Yakuza could give two shits about omniums last I checked. It had to be someone with money, _someone_ who had _something_ to gain from all this.” 

“We’re gaining a _lot_ , that’s for sure.”

“Care to share?”

Sombra laughs, dropping her gun. “Who do you take me for? A megalomaniacal moustache-twirling villain who’s about to reveal our plans because I intend on capturing you, but then you escape and _reveal_ said plans to your boss, thwarting us?” She rolls her eyes. “I’ve seen that movie, a dozen times.” Taking a breath, she levels her gun with his chest again. “No, information is power, and right now, _I_ have the power.”

Jesse weighs up his options. He’s fast, he could easily clock her over the head with the butt of his gun, scoop her up and take her in. But if _she’s_ here, then the rest of them are likely here: Reaper, Widowmaker, a few dozen goons, and maybe some heavy assaults too. No, it’s too risky, he probably wouldn’t make it ten feet before he’s taken down. 

On top of that, she could alert them. Hell, there’s probably a check-in or some word she’s supposed to utter in case she gets in trouble. The last thing he wants is to aggravate her _or_ them, and with comms down, there’s no way to warn Winston that shit is about to hit the fan. 

The only thing he can do is play her little game and see if he can shake loose some information.

He glances around the room. “So no explosion. Felt real, though. We saw smoke, too.” He meets her gaze. “How’d you manage that?”

“You’d be surprised what hard-light technology and the power of _gravity_ can do,” she replies with a mischievous smirk. 

Jesse narrows his eyes. _Gravity_? As much as he wants her to elaborate, he keeps that one tucked close to his chest. It’s not like she’d tell him anyway. “So this was a trap, then?”

Sombra shivers exaggeratedly. “Getting colder.” 

If not a trap, then a calculated move. Talon would have to know who was here, where they would be positioned, and what Winston would order. Whether they’ve studied the Overwatch handbook and know Winston’s exact decisions remains to be seen, but the likely culprit is a mole—a hack into their systems, or comms, or even one of the police officers Hanzo is reporting to right this very second. 

So if, _if_ they knew that Jesse would be alone, then this could be a stalling technique. It’s a bit of a left-field thought, but at this stage, he’s got nothing to lose. 

Jesse shifts his weight onto his other foot. “This is a cat-and-mouse game where you’re keeping _me_ busy while something _else_ is happening.”

“More than a pretty face!” Sombra exclaims, clapping. “You were always the smart one.”

Jesse’s adrenaline spikes and he worries for Hanzo. While he can’t hear anything happening outside the building, it doesn’t mean _nothing_ is happening out there. 

“But why single me out?” Jesse asks, despite his concern. “There’s a lot of us, and they’re just as, if not more, competent than me.”

Sombra tsks, rolling her eyes. “Humility doesn’t suit you. No, the monkey can’t do much with that tickle gun of his, the British one has limited resources. The cute girl’s mech is easily hacked, and the one on the roof? Bow and arrow guy? He _thinks_ he can outplay a gun.” She takes a step forward, covering the side of her mouth and stage whispering, “Spoiler, he can’t.”

“If you’ve—”

Sombra gasps dramatically, grinning from ear to ear. “Sensitive about him, are we?”

“Hurt _any_ of them,” he growls, “I won’t hesitate to drop you.”

“So violent,” Sombra replies, tsking. “Honestly,” she says with a dismissive shrug, “I’d like to see you try.”

Jesse tightens his grip on Peacekeeper but keeps her aimed at the ceiling. “You mentioned hacking the mech. So you’re to blame for the comms.” 

“Sure am,” she answers. “And your friend. The one in the sexy white armour.”

Rage boiling over, Jesse levels Peacekeeper at her. “You almost _killed_ him!”

“ _Almost_ ,” she replies, stepping forward and pressing the muzzle of her gun to the hollow of his throat as Peacekeeper’s pushes against her chest. It's a daring power move, something he knows she wouldn't risk if she didn't have some form of escape. “It wasn’t my intention to harm him,” she says, almost sincerely, and if he didn’t know her, he’d believe it. “I did not realise how much of him relied on cybernetics.”

Jesse scoffs. “Since when do you care about the enemy?”

“ _Contrary_ to popular belief, I’m not a mass murderer, just a simple hacker. I’m allowed to show remorse.” Then she smirks, a wicked little thing. “Not that it matters, his _guardian angel_ was there in no time to rescue him.”

“And if she _wasn’t_?"

Sombra shrugs noncommittally. “Collateral damage.”

Her hypocrisy is truly mind-boggling. But since Sombra’s talking, he tries his luck. “Let me bounce a theory off you.”

“Shoot.” She looks at Peacekeeper and bursts out laughing, taking a step back. He instinctively swallows now that the pressure of her gun is gone. “Not literally, of course.”

“This was an exercise in our response. Would we respond to a threat on an omnium? And if so, who would we send in the event of an attack?”

Sombra grins. “I think you might be my favourite. I can’t imagine having this kind of riveting conversation with bow and arrow.”

Jesse resists the urge to respond to the mention of Hanzo again. “So I’m right, then?”

“For the most part.” Her eyes dart to her left, Jesse follows her gaze to the doorway he entered from and sees nothing. She meets his eyes, smirking slyly. “Anyways, it’s been fun chatting, but I need to go.” Taking a step forward, she taps his nose with a finger. “Boop.”

Before Jesse can even register what just happened, she waves and disappears in that same purple haze from earlier. Suddenly, the sound of sirens fills the void of silence, followed by a single familiar crack from a sniper rifle. The comms fill with chatter, and Jesse reels from the sheer volume.

“ _—Don’t know where he is!_ ” Lena says, frantic.

A familiar growl. Hanzo. He’s angry, but at least he’s okay. “ _You’ve checked the east side—_ ” 

“ _Yes! Twice! Top to bottom. I—I think he’s gone…_ ”

“McCree checking in,” he says, heart pounding. 

“ _Jesse!_ ” Lena exclaims. “ _Where are you?!_ ”

“Office space, east side.”

_"Jesse, there’s nothing—whoa._ ” Lena steps through the doorway, looking around the room, eyes wide as saucers. “You weren’t in here a minute ago.”

Jesse narrows his eyes, because that doesn’t make a lick of sense. “I haven’t moved.”

“Jesse,” Lena says, frowning, reaching out and patting his arm from wrist to elbow, as if testing if she can actually see him and that he’s really in front of her, “this room has been empty for hours. I checked it, behind every corner, under every desk. Twice.”

“No.” Jesse shakes his head, looking at the doorway, and then around the room itself for anything out of the ordinary. “No, I would have seen you.”

“ _I_ would have seen you!”

Now Jesse’s starting to question everything. Was Sombra really here? He presses the hollow of his throat, remembering the pressure of her gun, the coolness of the metal against his skin. That was real. _Very_ real. He places his hand on top of Lena’s, warm, soft. Also real. She’s really here, she’s not an illusion. 

His eyes bounce around the room again, listening to the chorus of sirens from outside, and realising just how _sudden_ the noise was when Sombra left. “It was silent before Sombra left. No sirens, no birds, nothing.”

“Sombra was here? We were wondering…”

Jesse hums as he looks at the doorway he walked through, approaching it and knocking against it. As far as he can tell, it’s a standard wooden doorway. “Could I have teleported?”

“You’d know if you stepped through a teleporter though,” Lena replies. She’s right, he’d have felt that distinct wave of vertigo he gets whenever he takes one, which is why he sticks to hypertrains nowadays. That, and they're significantly cheaper. “Winston might have some answers, and Hanzo’s been fretting over you. Come on.” She takes his hand as she presses her finger to her comms with the other. “I have Jesse, he’s fine. We’re exiting the building.”

Jesse follows behind her, into the stairwell, back to the ground floor, and out the building. He raises his hands as he exits, seeing the row of cops with their guns trained on him. They drop them quick smart, and Jesse makes sure his hands are still visible and non-threatening nonetheless. 

He finds himself squinting, and realises that the sun is up, high in the sky. It’s close to midday, which makes no sense given it was barely dawn when they entered the building. He remembers Lena saying she looked for him for _hours_ , and that horrid anxious feeling he had before Sombra showed her face kicks up again.

They step through the medical tent, Jesse’s eyes bounce around, and when he settles on Hanzo, he breathes a sigh of relief. Hanzo's sitting on a gurney, Angie’s in front of him tending to a wound on his face. The second their eyes lock, Hanzo stands up, races over, pulling Jesse down into a tight hug. 

“I thought I had lost you,” Hanzo whispers, voice breaking. 

Jesse feels the tide of sorrow, the almost heartbreak deep in his chest, and he holds onto Hanzo just as tight. “I’m sorry,” he replies. “I’m here now.”

Hanzo pulls away, looking into his eyes, hands fisted in his serape. “What happened?”

“Sombra.”

Winston hums, approaching, eyes on his tablet. “Jesse, how long were you in the building for?”

Jesse knows the answer is ridiculous, it makes no damn sense given the evidence he’s seen with his own two eyes. He sighs deeply; it’ll be a miracle if Winston _actually_ has the answers. “From when we entered together, to now? Half an hour at most.”

“You…” Winston glances at his tablet. “You’ve been gone for six hours.”

“I—” Jesse is hit with a wave of nausea and he swallows it down, holding onto Hanzo tight, like a lifeline. “I knew something strange happened but lost time? How is that possible?”

“I'm not sure. Not only did you disappear, but your sense of time was also compromised too.” Winston frowns deeply, lost in his thoughts for a moment. “The technology needed to do this is all still theoretical…”

“Gravity.” Jesse says it without thinking, locking eyes with Winston. “Sombra said they caused the explosion with the help of _gravity_.”

“That’s—” Winston’s eyes widen, he furiously taps at his tablet. After a moment, he shakes his head, taking off his glasses. “It’s not possible. He was catatonic...” He stares into the middle distance, fingers twitching, eyes searching for _something._

“Who?” Angie prompts.

Winston blinks back into the present, looking at her. “Dr. Siebren de Kuiper, a colleague of Dr. Winston's. He was a theoretical physicist, experimenting on black holes in an attempt to harness the power of gravity. He thought he had worked it out, but when he tested his theory, it went catastrophically wrong, and he absorbed the full, raw power. He had a psychological break, gravity around him was in a constant state of flux."

"Well I know for a fact that I didn't experience any changes in gravity in there," Jesse says. “Feet stayed locked on the ground the entire time.” 

"He would visit the lunar colony on occasion, he did just before that experiment. In a rather riveting discussion, he talked in great length about his theory that black holes are the gateway to parallel universes. I…" Winston pauses, meeting Jesse's gaze. "I believe that's what you experienced."

"That's not possible," Hanzo argues. "It is all theoretical."

"It is,” Winston replies, “but if there is someone who could figure it out, someone who could truly harness _that_ power, it would be Dr. de Kuiper." He looks at Lena. “We already have the power to manipulate time, manipulating space is the next logical step.” 

"But you said he was catatonic," Angela says. "It would be an incredible feat for him to have this power at all."

"Last I heard, he was in a hospital being cared for. Unresponsive, unmoving. I wanted to visit him once I was back on Earth, but he had been transferred. They didn’t say where. I had suspected the military intervened; he was dangerous, after all.”

"Dangerous enough for Talon to get their hands on him," Jesse says gravely. “You're certain that there is no one else who could use those powers?”

"It's doubtful," Winston replies with a shake of his head. "Sombra said gravity was responsible to mimic the explosion. Increase the force of gravity on an object, it's going to respond to that force. We simply don't have that technology available to do that. Dr. de Kuiper has that power. _If_ Talon has their hands on him and his research, then they are more dangerous than they’ve ever been.”

“Great. Talon has the power to bend space and time, mess with gravity, and they saw it fit to send me to a _parallel_ universe without my knowing.” Jesse huffs, frustration reaching boiling point. He looks at the wound on Hanzo's cheek, the dried trickle of blood that gets lost in his goatee, and holds him tighter, a means to stop from trashing Angie's poor tent. “This was a test, by the way. To see our response. I’m willing to bet, whatever time-fucky shit they did to me was also a test. She seemed to hint that they were getting _something_ big out of this.”

Winston taps at his tablet. “Did she say anything else?”

“It felt like she was just stalling for time, honestly,” Jesse replies.

_Time._

"How would sending me to a parallel universe cause me to lose six hours of time, though?"

Winston sighs heavily. "Not much is known about black holes, even less is known about other universes. Much of it is still theoretical, and outside my field of expertise."

"Shame," Jesse murmurs. He knows Winston isn't at any fault, and odds are he won't get the answers to his questions anytime soon, but it doesn't help the fact that Jesse's anger is starting to reach critical mass.

"I'll look into it on the shuttle back home," Winston says, drawing Jesse from his thoughts. "We'll need as much information as we can get."

Jesse hums. "And we might want to look at potential leaks in data or the possibility of a mole. Sombra seemed to indicate that she needed me away from the rest of you.”

“Well, your skills could have been of some use. Your speed and accuracy would have seen fewer casualties.”

Jesse’s fury boils over and he looks back at Hanzo, getting lost in his eyes. He needs an out, something he can channel the anger and hatred sitting deep in his gut and staring into Hanzo's deep brown eyes proves that doorway. Inhaling deeply, he exhales slowly, expelling all that energy. What's done is done, there's no point dwelling on it while Hanzo's injured. 

But he is very much done with this briefing and is well and truly ready to continue from where they were rudely interrupted.

“What happened?” Jesse asks, brushing his thumb under the split on Hanzo's cheek.

“Widowmaker.”

“She _was_ here.” Jesse swallows the lump in his throat, the crack from her rifle when Sombra disappeared echoes in his mind. “Sombra said that you were no match for her.”

“She is formidable, but hardly a challenge,” Hanzo replies, smirking. 

"Cocky son of a bitch,” Jesse breathes. He cups Hanzo's face, and if they were alone, he’d pull him in close, lean in and kiss him. But then he has an idea—the next best thing. “I could use a drink.”

Hanzo nods, wrapping his arm around Jesse’s waist and turning them.

“You still need medical treatment!” Angie cries.

“I got it,” Jesse says, holding out his hand. She looks between them and after a moment she huffs, walking over to her supplies and picking up a first aid kit. “Just the scratch?”

Angie nods, glancing at Hanzo before handing it over.

“Ten minutes,” Winston says. Lena's got her hand on his arm, and when they make eye contact, she winks. She is always the best wing woman. “We’re not done here.”

“Got it,” Jesse breathes, pulling Hanzo in beside him. They walk out of the tent and away from the omnium, following a trail of spent bullet casings and holes in the pavement from the gunfight, past several buildings to a vending machine that’s seen better days; the glass is shattered, a puddle of destroyed drinks sits beneath it. 

Hanzo groans as he reaches through the glass, picking up a carton of sake. “This will be terrible, but it is all I have on such short notice.”

“It’ll do nicely,” Jesse says. He spots a lone sakura tree in the distance. It's well past flowering, but it is fruiting, the leafy tree is dotted with bursts of red, and provides some shade from the sun. If they’d been eight short weeks earlier, that tree would be blooming in sakura, and it would be downright romantic. But such is life. “How about we park it over there?”

Nodding, Hanzo leads the way. He sits under the tree, Jesse settles beside him with a weary groan. Jesse takes a moment to appreciate Hanzo's arm pressed against his, the warm summer breeze on his face. After a day like today, it’s the simple things that help keep him grounded.

Hanzo opens the carton, gives it a sniff, pulls it back, smirks as he looks Jesse in the eye, and takes a good swig. He winces as he swallows, which is probably telling of just how bad the sake will be. Handing it over, Hanzo wipes his mouth with his hand.

Jesse repeats the actions, taking a cautious smell and reeling back. “That’ll burn the nose hairs.” He takes a sip, letting it sit on his tongue before quickly swallowing. “This ain’t booze, it’s rubbing alcohol,” he says with a chuckle. He goes back in for a second, heartier gulp before handing it back. “I’ve had moonshine that tastes better than this.”

Hanzo hums as he holds the carton in his hands. He stares at it for a long time, thumbs idly tracing the cartoon dog on the packaging. “I truly thought I had lost you," he says eventually, barely a whisper.

That about breaks Jesse’s heart into a million little pieces. He hasn’t had someone worry about him like that in a _long_ time, and _this_ time, he can do something about it. “I’m sorry I worried you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, cupping Hanzo’s face. 

Hanzo looks into his eyes, and for the briefest of moments they grow watery, but he blinks it away. “So, I believe the mission is over with,” he says playfully.

“Reckon so,” Jesse replies, smiling. He glances down at Hanzo’s lips, full and perfect and begging to be kissed. “Wanna do something I’ve been wanting to do for so long,” he murmurs. His stomach flutters, anxiety eats away at him— _good_ anxiety—but he pushes through. “I’ve had feelings for you for a while now. I enjoy your company, spending time with you is the highlight of my day. I’ve known for a while, and have always been scared to say anything, y’know?”

Hanzo nods. “I know.”

Jesse smiles. Those three words sit in his throat, lodged, unmoving. He sees the wall in front of him like he’s seen several times now, insurmountable to climb, but this time, hearing Hanzo's echoed words that were utterly drowning in sorrow, he crashes through the damn thing. If today’s proven anything, it’s that life is short and fragile. “Hanzo,” he says, smile growing wider, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Hanzo whispers.

Choking back tears, Jesse leans in, _finally_ giving Hanzo a kiss. It’s a small peck, he pulls away, but Hanzo’s hand settles on the back of his head, holding him in place and kissing him again. Jesse melts into it, it deepens, and the outside world around them disappears into nothingness. He has Hanzo in his arms, safe, happy, and he’s over the moon that he finally had the guts to say what he wanted to say for _months._

Jesse sighs through his nose as the kiss recedes, and Hanzo places one last peck to the corner of his mouth before pulling away. He smiles at Hanzo, sweeping his bangs behind his ear, then looking at the wound on his cheek. “How’d this happen?”

“She missed.”

Jesse’s mouth hangs open. It's a _bullet graze_? “Jesus, Hanzo.”

“It is just a flesh wound, and was worse before you arrived,” he replies, smirking proudly like it’s a damn badge of honour. “Dr. Ziegler had started treating it.”

“I…” Jesse just looks at the wound and granted it doesn’t look like a graze anymore, it’s more like a deep scratch. But still, it’s going to take some time to fully heal. “Okay. Let’s fix it up proper, then.”

Hanzo nods and Jesse tends to the wound, cleaning it, his cheek from the dried blood, before covering it up with gauze as Hanzo watches on with a sweet little smile on his face. Jesse tries to focus on that but all he can fixate on is the fact that Hanzo came close—so _achingly_ close—to losing his life today, and he thinks it’s nothing. This is the man he has fallen in love with, this cocky adrenaline junkie. 

Jesse chuckles as he finishes up, cupping Hanzo's face again, pecking him on the lips. “'Just a flesh wound...'”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! The next work in this series is written. It was completed before I started writing this fic. Expect it in a bit!
> 
> (I promise not in five months asadfjasdkjf)

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie).


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